Fern
by R. O. Knight
Summary: He knew there was something about his partners' new boyfriend that didn't feel right, and now he may wish he'd realized why sooner.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, though I wish I did, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Enjoy!**

The beach was quite peaceful, the only sounds being the wind and the waves, and usually Deeks found coming here to be quite calming—but not this time. This time was different. He and Kensi had had an argument at work earlier in the day, about her new boyfriend, and they had both said some ugly things to each other.

He couldn't help that he didn't like Rick. Hell, he wasn't even really sure why he didn't like the guy—But he didn't and couldn't no matter how hard he tried. There was just something _off_ about _Rick_—something that seemed to set his nerves on edge every time he looked at him.

So now he sat, feeling beyond terrible, with his butt in the sand staring down at his cell phone. He had been trying unsuccessfully for the last 3 hours to work up the nerve to call his partner and apologize.

He had thought, as he always did at times like this, that coming down to the beach would help clear his mind. Tonight, however, it made no difference in his overall mood. It would have been a complete waste of time if it hadn't been for the simple fact that Monty loved to run on the beach.

_What was I thinking? She probably hates me now. Maybe she was right—maybe I was just being jealous._

As Deeks sat watching the evening sun begin to drop below the horizon, Monty came trotting back up the beach after finishing a quick romp down close to the water's edge. Exhausted, the retired police dog finally plopped down on his stomach at his master's feet.

"Enjoy the run?" Deeks asked his four-legged friend. Monty just laid there panting heavily—with his tongue lolling out to one side. "Yeah, I thought so." Deeks said, reaching out to pat the dog on top of the head.

It was getting late now, and at this point Deeks had pretty much resigned himself to the reality that until he actually talked to Kensi—his mind would never be at ease. "You ready to go, Monty?" Deeks asked his shaggy-haired pooch.

Monty lifted his head expectantly—his ears perked all the way up over his head. Deeks knew what his dog was thinking, and had to shake his head sadly. "Not tonight boy. She's kind of sore at me right now."

Monty dropped his head back onto the sand dejectedly.

"Hey, you still got me." Deeks said. The shaggy dog covered his face with one paw, and gave a tiny whimper. The attempt to lift the canine's spirit seemed to fall flat. "Yeah, I don't blame ya." Deeks said with a sigh. "Might as well call it a day I guess."

The pair walked somberly back to Deeks' Chevy Malibu in silence. _I'll wait until tomorrow. She should be plenty cooled off by then._

It was a little after seven, and Kensi had just emerged from the shower when she heard the doorbell ring. She quickly dried her hair as best as she could, and then pulled on a t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants.

_That had better not be you Deeks. Not after what you pulled today._

She was still fuming about the argument that she and Deeks had had earlier that day. He had no right to tell her who she could and could not date—it _was _her life after all.

At the same time, though, it also saddened her a little bit. She and Deeks were supposed to be _best friends_, she thought, and _best friends_ weren't supposed to let anything or _anyone _come between them.

The doorbell sounded a second time as she made her way to the front of the house. "Coming!" she called out as she reached the front room.

"Who is it?" she asked, as she approached the front door. "It's me." Came the familiar reply.

A sigh of relief escaped from Kensi's lungs as she started to undo the locks on the door. _Thank God—Its just Rick._ She finished turning the last lock, and pulled the door open to find Rick smiling, and leaning against the outside of the doorframe.

"What are you doing here?" she asked nervously. "Did we have a date tonight—I didn't forget did I?" Her mind was racing at a million miles per hour as she stood there looking out at the handsome man.

Rick chuckled at the worried expression painted on Kensi's face. "Can't a guy just stop in to see his girl unannounced?" He smiled that charming smile that had attracted the federal agent to him in the beginning.

Kensi couldn't help but smile back at the sharply dressed man standing in her doorway. "Can I come in?" he asked, with a nod towards the sofa, which he could see clearly over her head.

"Sure. Sorry." She stepped aside to allow room for him to enter. She closed the door, and turned to face him.

They faced each other now, and Kensi couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious about the way she was currently dressed. "God, you look beautiful." His smile pierced even further into her heart the more she stared at it, and made her blush a little bit too.

"Rick, please." She chuckled. "I'm wearing sweats, and no make-up—I look horrible."

"No, I'm serious. You look absolutely stunning." He took her by the hand, and gently pulled her into a deep, consuming kiss. "W-Would you like some coffee?" she asked sluggishly, after they had parted. "I had a pot brewing while I was in the shower—it should be ready by now."

Rick didn't answer. He barely even took his eyes off of her. Kensi couldn't help it, but as she stood there in his arms she began to feel a little uneasy.

"Here, let me go and pour us a cup real quick." She tried to pull away, but Rick held firmly to her wrists.

"I can already tell this is gonna be…so much fun."

Something changed him changed as he spoke. His smile was no longer warm and inviting as it once had been. Now it was just weird, unnerving—creepy even. Everything about Rick, in that moment, made her skin crawl.

She tried to pull away again, but he still held tight—not even giving so much as an inch. His grip was really strong—stronger than she'd ever realized before.

"Rick," she chuckled nervously, trying to break the uneasy silence that had settled over the room. "You can let go now." His grip on her wrists only tightened, and she could feel his fingernails digging into her soft flesh. "Rick, you're…you're hurting me."

An emotion that she had never really allowed herself to feel began to creep up over her; and as she stood looking into the now ice-cold eyes that bore back down into her own she knew exactly what that feeling was—it was fear.

"I am going to enjoy this." He whispered. His words were as icy-cold as the look he held in his eyes.

"Rick, please." She could hear the clearly audible quiver in her voice, and she was sure that he could hear it too.

Suddenly he let go of one of her wrists, and then before she could even try to move away—he brought that hand down hard against the side of her face.

The force of the blow knocked her backwards into the coffee table—quickly knocking the air out of her lungs. The coffee table shattered into pieces under her weight, and she soon found herself lying in a pile of broken glass and wood splinters.

She could hear him laughing as she struggled to pull herself up. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen." He sneered, as he hovered over her.

Everything in the room seemed to be spinning in that moment, as she struggled to make sense of what was happening.

"I-I don't…understand…" she choked out, still trying to get her second wind. She could feel a warm, thick liquid trickling down her left temple—_Blood._ She was bleeding, and as she tried to move she could feel pieces of broken glass slicing into her feet and hands.

"I don't expect you to," Was his only answer. "Maybe if you paid more attention to the evening news, just maybe…" he let the thought trail off as he reached down, and wrapped his fingers around her throat.

"Let's move this little party to the bedroom, shall we?" He said with an evil-looking grin, as he pulled Kensi to her feet. Kensi tried to shake her head no, but Rick was holding her so tightly by the throat that she could barely even breathe—let alone move.

Deeks had stopped at a little 'mom & pop' service station, on his way home, to grab a bite to eat for himself and a small snack for Monty. The smells that came from the freshly cooked foods resting in the warmer boxes behind the counter were mouth-wateringly pleasant.

There were still two other people standing in front of him in line at the register though, but he didn't mind—wasn't like he had anywhere to be anyway.

By now it was good and dark outside, and he knew he wouldn't want to fool around in the kitchen after the long day he had had at NCIS. So this was the next best thing.

He glanced out one of the station's windows to check on the shaggy-haired dog currently locked up in his Chevy Malibu—he looked okay.

The service station attendant stopped, momentarily, to turn up the volume on the tiny television set that was mounted to the wall behind her.

Deeks waited patiently as the line finally moved up one more space. His attention was soon drawn to the tiny television set as the evening news began to roll clips of footage from the days' most important stories.

"…And in other news the mysterious man, dubbed by L.A.P.D. officials as 'the Los Angeles Strangler', has apparently struck again. Early this morning, Thirty-year old Diane Fisher was found dead in her home, by a neighbor, and according to sources within the police department the details of the crime bare a remarkable resemblance to the last three cases connected to the 'Strangler'…"

Deeks shook his head, disgustedly, at the news announcer on the television screen. "That's original." he remarked—rolling his eyes at the television screen.

"How can I help you this evening?" the black lady behind the counter asked, as Deeks stepped up to the counter. It was finally his turn to order, and he was so ready for it. "Oh, Mr. Deeks—it's you!" the woman laughed cheerfully. "Mighty nice seeing your face out this evening."

"Hey Berta. How're you this evening?" Deeks asked, with his trademark smile. Deeks had known Ms. Berta Henderson for many years now, and he never got tired of her delicious home cooking.

"Pretty good…though I imagine the years are beginning to show a bit." She replied, with a small sigh.

"Nah," Deeks said, with a shake of his head. "I still don't see it Berta."

Ms. Berta blushed, and wagged a finger at the shaggy-haired detective. "Now you know how I feel about flattery." She said, with a smile.

"That it'll get you anywhere." Deeks replied, leaning against the counter. The woman shook her head at Deeks again, and the reached for a paper bag and a pair of tongs that were lying nearby.

"You having the usual this evening?" woman asked, as she pulled open the sliding door on the warmer box.

"Ah Ms. Berta…you know me so well, don't you?" Deeks laughed.

"…the L.A.P.D. released this composite sketch, just this afternoon, of what the 'Strangler' may look like. The sketch is based upon information gathered from several eyewitnesses who claimed to have seen a man enter Diane Fisher's home late last night."

Deeks just happened to glance back up as the sketch of the 'Strangler' was flashed across the television screen. He felt his heart skip a beat when he saw the image on the screen—he couldn't believe it.

_Rick._

"Shit!" he swore under his breath. His heart was pounding in his chest now, and his head was swimming wildly. "I can't believe it…Son-of-a-bitch—I knew there was something about that guy I didn't like."

"You say something sweetie?" Ms. Berta asked, as she handed Deeks the paper sack.

Deeks whipped his head around to face Ms. Berta once again. "Uh, no ma'am." He said, as he took the paper sack from her. "Here's a $10, thanks again—and keep the change." He said, as he turned and bolted for the door.

Deeks slid into the driver's seat of his car a few seconds later. He quickly began dialing Kensi's cell number as he started the car up, and then threw it into drive.

"Come on Kens—answer the phone." The phone rang three times, but there was no answer. It just went straight on to voice mail immediately afterward. "Damnit." He swore. He tried again a few minutes later, but still nothing.

_She's probably with that bastard right now._

Under normal circumstances he wouldn't really worry so much about Kensi. She could, after all, take care of herself no matter the situation. He had learned that fact the hard way.

Still, if she was blind-sided, all the tenacity and fighting experience in the world would be of little use—and that's what scared Deeks the most. She would have no way of knowing what she was up against until it was too late—Unless she just happened to be watching the news…which he seriously doubted.

Beside him in the passenger's seat, Monty gave a small whimper as he propped himself up on his hind legs to look out the window. "Hey, don't worry—we'll get there in time." The statement was meant to reassure both the dog and himself as they sped down the highway, weaving in and out of traffic like a bat out of hell, headed in the direction of Kensi's house.

…TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

He finally reached Kensi's place a short while later. He parked his car out on the front curb to allow for easy access and quick departure—should he need it.

It was a new moon out, and everything seemed to be hidden from view behind a curtain of intense darkness. It made the property around Kensi's house look rather ominous to be honest, and it kind of made the hairs on the back of Deeks' neck stand on end when he looked up at it.

From the car he could see lights on in the front room of the house, but no visible movement. In the driveway he could just barely make out the silhouettes from two different cars—Kensi's SRX, and what looked like a tiny sports car.

_I'll bet the little one is Rick's car._

He unbuckled his seatbelt, and dropped the cell phone he'd been holding down into the console. Kensi hadn't answered any of his calls and he was getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he just couldn't shake.

Just then, out of the corner of his eye, Deeks thought he saw movement up close to the house—and he didn't hesitate. He retrieved his Beretta from the glove compartment, and then exited the vehicle in a hurry.

"L.A.P.D., Freeze!" he yelled as he stepped out of the Malibu. He heard a car door slam, and Deeks instantly bolted towards the little sports car. A few seconds later the sound of an engine revving to life prompted a warning shot, placed just over the hood of the vehicle. "I said Freeze!" He yelled, still moving towards the tiny sports car.

Deeks jumped backwards as the sports car peeled down the driveway in a hurry. After righting himself, Deeks squeezed off a few rounds in the vehicle's direction—though he couldn't be certain whether any actually hit their mark.

Deeks swore out loud, as the tiny car quickly vanished into the night behind a semi-visible cloud of dust. "Shit!"

He didn't have time to stand around though. He needed to check on Kensi, and make sure that she was alright. He headed towards the house, and instantly noticed that the front door had been left standing open.

"Kensi!" He stepped through the front door into the front room of the house. His eyes darted around the room looking for any visible signs of life, as he shoved his Beretta down into the back of his jeans.

Immediately, he noticed the shattered coffee table at the center of the room, and then the blood stains that decorated many of the visible shards of glass. He felt his pulse quicken, and his mind begin to race as every worst-case scenario began to play out in his head.

"Kens, if you can here me—say something!" He moved through the living room, and entered the little hallway. He could see a light on in the bedroom, and his legs automatically began to pull him in that direction.

He pushed the bedroom door open, and as soon as his eyes fell upon the bed—he froze in his tracks. It was too horrible to look at, but at the same time his eyes were glued to the gruesome scene before him.

She was unconscious, and half-naked in a pool of her own blood. From where Deeks stood in the doorway she looked so pale and fragile—a shell of her former self.

The wind had been knocked completely out of his sails, and his legs felt weak and wobbly beneath him. It seemed to take every ounce of strength he had in his body, but he finally willed himself to move forward.

Up close he could see that bruises and incisions that still oozed red now marred the exposed flesh, which had once been silky-smooth. It made him sick to his stomach to see Kensi this way—exposed and vulnerable.

She didn't appear to be breathing, but Deeks knew he needed to check for a pulse anyway. _Oh God—please let her still be alive._ He pressed two fingers into the underside of her throat, and it took a second but he finally found it. It felt very weak though. Then, just as quickly as he'd found it—it was gone.

"No. Damnit—Kensi!" Deeks quickly pulled himself up onto the bed, and immediately began doing CPR. "Don't you dare give up on me!" he yelled. There was panic in his voice—he could hear it plain as day.

After a few minutes of working on his partner he finally succeeded. Her pulse was still very weak, but at least it was something. He hopped off of the bed, and quickly wrapped Kensi tightly in the sheet that she was laying on. "Hang in there, Fern." He whispered, as he scooped her up and carried her from the room. "Just hang in there."

They arrived at the Hospital a little later, and Deeks had to push through a crowd of people as he carried his partner in through the emergency entrance. "Help, I need a Doctor!" Deeks bellowed, as he pushed his way into the building. "Hey, you can't come through here." A redheaded nurse protested, as the shaggy-haired detective passed by her station.

The area just inside the building was noisy and crowded. An ambulance was busily unloading two new patients of its own, and their seemed to be an abundance of nurses and doctors responding to the emergency.

A tall man stepped forward, and waved to the redheaded nurse that it was okay. He was a middle-aged looking man in a white lab coat. He sported wire-rim glasses and a silvery-mustache, and the hair on his head was also starting to turn a grayish color as well. The older man held up a hand to stop Deeks from going any further. "Son, I'm sorry. I'm afraid you're gonna have to-"

"You have to help me." Deeks blurted out while panting heavily—beads of sweat _running_ down his forehead. He lifted Kensi's body up a little bit for the man in the white coat to see. "She's already lost a lot of blood, please!" He nearly begged.

He took a closer look at the woman that Deeks was carrying in his muscular arms. The gray-haired Doctor's eyes widened in horror at what he saw, and he quickly motioned for Deeks to follow him down an adjacent hallway.

"Gretchen!" the gray-haired doctor called to the redheaded nurse who was now following behind the two men. "Page Doctor Sykes and have him meet me in the O.R.—now!"

"Y-Yes sir." The redheaded nurse replied. She turned quickly, and headed back out to her station to make the call.

"What's her blood type?" the gray-haired doctor asked, as he led Deeks down to the hallway to a prep room.

Deeks had to think a minute about that one, but then it finally came to him. "AB Negative." He remembered Kensi telling him that one time, a while back. He was glad that he hadn't forgotten.

He watched in silence as Kensi was eventually taken from his arms, and moved onto an empty gurney where the gray-haired Doctor and two other nurses began to work feverishly over her.

Soon another Doctor joined the team in the little prep room, and Deeks could only look on as they continued to work on Kensi—getting her ready for the emergency surgery to come.

The shaggy-haired liaison officer stood alone outside the O.R. a short while later. He wished like hell that he could be in there with her, but the doctors and nurses would never allow it—not in a million years.

He guessed that there was nothing else he could do at that point except make a phone call. He fished his cell phone out of his pants pocket, and quietly dialed Hetty's cell number. As he pressed each individual number he took deep breaths, in and out, trying to steady his nerves before hitting the send button.

He waited with trembling hands, and listened for his boss to pick up. She finally did answer on the third ring. "Mr. Deeks, you had better have a damn good reason for interrupting my late night _Tai-Chi_ session." Came the voice of the tiny woman over the line. She sounded kind of annoyed.

Deeks sucked in one, last deep breath to calm himself before he spoke.

"I-I'm sorry Hetty." He apologized. His voice was shaky with emotion, and the sound of it unnerved Hetty. "I think you should come down to the hospital. Kensi's in real bad shape—the doctor's are saying-" he suddenly couldn't go any further. There was just no way he could say the words. That would only make them real, and he wasn't sure his heart could handle that kind of reality.

"Say no more, Mr. Deeks. I'll contact the others, and be on my way shortly—just hang in there."

Deeks closed his phone after the call ended.

He found himself sinking back against the nearby wall until he finally hit the floor. His whole world seemed to be crashing down around him in that moment, and he fought like crazy to keep from completely losing it as he sat there on the floor.

He finally gave up and let the tears just come. His body was wracked by miserable sobs as he sat helplessly thinking about his partner in the next room—fighting for her life.


	3. Chapter 3

This is a fairly short chapter, and I am deeply sorry. It was originally intended to be part of Chapter 2, but I had some trouble getting the whole thing to load together, for some reason. So I had to shorten it, and it worked. I promise that the next chapter will be sooooooo much better. Thanks again for bearing with me on this one. :) 

The mood in the waiting room was one of apprehension for all those involved. It had been nearly three hours since the doctors had taken Kensi into surgery. Deeks had become restless after about an hour and a half.

"This is insane!" Deeks blurted out suddenly. "They've been back there for three hours…I need to know now."

"Mr. Deeks, I'm going to have to ask you to settle down." Hetty spoke calmly and evenly from the seat where she sat.

"Settle down, Hetty—my partner is fighting for her life back there. I can't just-"

"Mr. Deeks." Hetty said sternly.

Deeks got quiet—real quiet. He just stared at Hetty, not blinking,

A doctor appeared behind them then, and when he cleared his throat they turned around.

"Henrietta." The gray-haired doctor greeted the tiny woman upon seeing her. This was an unexpected surprise for him—though also a pleasant one.

"Clay." She said with a smile. "It's been a while."

"It has." The man agreed.

"I trust you've got some good news for us?" Hetty asked, standing up and moving forward.

The doctor looked really serious in that moment. He stood silently, carefully choosing his words. He finally looked up at Deeks and Hetty.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Deeks asked quietly.

"Ms. Blye's injuries were substantial, and she lost a great deal of blood. That said, we gave her a blood transfusion and finally got her stabilized…but she's not out of the woods yet, I'm afraid. She's got quite a battle ahead of her now."

"Can I see her?" Deeks asked. The doctor flashed a sympathetic look Deeks' way. "She's being moved to ICU as we speak. I'll have a nurse escort you back as soon as they get her settled in—You'll have ten minutes with her for tonight."

"Thank you." Was all Deeks could say.

A while later, the nurse came and offered to lead him to Kensi's room in the ICU. He followed obediently, ready to see his partner once again.

The room was silent for the first five minutes of Deeks' allotted time. He just couldn't bring himself to speak or do anything at first.

Then he sat with Kensi holding her hand in his, and wished that he could go back in time and prevent this from happening to her in the first place. She didn't deserve this—none of it.

She looked so helpless and fragile hooked up to all the machines that had wires running between them and her body. She looked so unlike herself.

"I'm gonna fix this, partner—I promise." He whispered, as he placed a gentle kiss against the back of her hand. "Just promise you won't die on me, Kens—Cause I-I don't think my heart could take it…if you did."

The nurse came back a few minutes later, and Deeks had to leave his partner's side. "I'll be back. I won't be gone long."

Deeks walked back out into waiting room, and before he could say or do anything—he found himself being slammed hard into a wall. He soon realized that it was Callen who had him pinned against the nearby wall.

"How the hell did this happen Deeks!" Callen demanded, his face red with anger. It was no secret to anyone that Callen had once been interested in Kensi. It was also no secret that she had turned him down, reasoning that they were too much alike for a relationship between them to end anyway other than badly. Still he loved her—in secret.

"Hetty said you knew about Rick being a killer." Callen spat angrily. "You knew…and you did nothing!"

"G man, come on." Deeks tried to pull away. "I-I didn't really know _he was_ the killer until I saw the news earlier. I tried to warn her, but she wouldn't take my calls." He tried to explain.

"G, let him go," That was Sam Hanna. He was the calm and assertive member of the team. He cared deeply about Kensi too, but his affections stretched only as far as that of an older brother. "Its not his fault." Sam tried again.

"She's _Your_ partner!" Callen raged, still holding Deeks pinned to the wall. "You should have tried harder! I'll bet you don't even really _care_ about her!"

"G!" Sam raised his voice a little bit louder, trying to get the other man's attention.

Something inside Deeks snapped at Callen's words, and suddenly a great burst strength came over him. He shoved Callen away, and then as soon as his feet hit the ground his right fist flew through the air and connected with the side of Callen's jaw—toppling the senior agent over backwards.

"No one cares more about Kensi than I do!" Deeks nearly screamed at Callen. "I would die for her! Hell, I'd take her place right now if I could. So don't tell me _I don't care_!"

Callen pulled himself up off of the floor, with some help from Sam. "Get out." Callen said firmly, biting back what was left of his anger. "Go. Leave. You're not fit to be a part of this agency."

"Mr. Callen-" Hetty started.

"No, Hetty. He's right—I don't belong here. I never have." He shook his head in disgust. "I should have done more, but I didn't."

"You're right. You didn't." Callen spat at the shaggy-haired man.

Deeks nodded in sad agreement. "But you can be damn sure of this—I'm not gonna let what happened to her go quietly." He said in a low voice. Then he turned and stalked away.

Callen pulled away from Sam, and went to fix himself up in the restroom.

"Mr. Hanna," Hetty said seriously, looking up at the big man. "I don't believe Mr. Deeks will let this go." She said.

"I don't either Hetty. Someone's gonna get hurt, and I'm just afraid that in his condition right now…it'll be him."

"I agree." Hetty said with a nod. "I need you to follow him. Keep an eye on him, and report back with any leads he comes up with." She instructed the big man.

"You got it. You'll keep me informed on Kensi, right?"

"Indeed, Mr. Hanna. Indeed I will."

…TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

Deeks walked into a bar somewhere in downtown Los, Angeles. He stood in the door and surveyed the area just inside. Men and women shuffled about the place laughing and drinking themselves into pitiful and unpleasant stupors.

Deeks searched the crowd until his eyes landed on a shadowy-looking man sitting at a table near the back of the place. He moved forward, pushing his way smoothly through the crowd of drunkards and ne'er-do-wells.

He reached the table, and stared down at the man for a long moment. He had only one thing on his mind at that point—and that was finding the bastard responsible for putting his partner in the ICU in critical condition.

This man was Carlos Peretti, one of the best and most dependable CIs that Deeks knew. Deeks and Carlos went back several years, as Carlos was one of the first CIs he recruited back in his early days on the force.

"You sure you weren't followed?" Deeks asked.

The man looked up at Deeks, and swished his dark bangs out of his face. "Yeah. You?"

Deeks dropped into the nearest seat, and rubbed a hand up and down his weary face. "No tails tonight." Deeks replied, with a sigh.

The other man looked sympathetically at the shaggy-haired detective. "Man, you look like hell—you alright D?"

Deeks shook his head at the man. "I'd respond to that, but I think you already know the answer." Deeks remarked, looking across the table at the man.

The man nodded. "Yeah, guess you got me there." He replied with a short chuckle. "So what can I help you with this evening?" Carlos asked, smoothing his dark hair back with one hand, as he leaned back in his chair.

Deeks pulled a small photograph from his pocket, and passed it across the table to the other man. "The man in this photo…that's what I want." Deeks said coldly.

Carlos studied the photo for a long moment. "This guy…yeah, I've seen him before. They were talking about this guy on the news." Carlos said, looking up at Deeks. "I mean, it was a police sketch, but this is the guy. No doubt about it."

Deeks nodded. "I know. Look, Carlos, you're the best at what you do…that's why I always come to you for the important stuff." Deeks pulled another photograph from his pocket, and carefully unfolded it before handing it to the other man.

"Hey, I've seen this one before too." Carlos remarked as he studied the second photograph—this one was of a familiar beautiful brunette woman. "This is the one you work with isn't it?"

"She's important to me, Carlos." Deeks told his friend. "She's fighting for her life in a hospital right now, because of that bastard." Deeks was almost speaking through gritted teeth towards the end of his statement, and his fists were clenching and unclenching under the table.

"I need you to put some feelers out." Deeks told the man, leaning a little bit closer as he spoke. "Find out what you can, and I mean anything at all." Deeks pulled out a pen, and passed it to the other man. "And I'll still pay you…whatever your price, just name it—I'll pay it."

Carlos thought for a log moment as he stared down at the two photographs in his hands. "Tell you what," the man said as he picked up the pen and uncapped it. "Here's my price." Carlos took one of Deeks' hands, and just as he always did when dealing with the shaggy-haired detective, he began to scribble something on Deeks' palm.

After a few seconds he laid the pen down on the tabletop, and closed Deeks' hand. "When you recruited me, I was stuck between a rock and a hard place." He said quietly. "All I wanted to do then, was provide for my family—but I was doing it the wrong way."

Deeks looked a little bit confused as he held his still closed fist underneath the table, as was the custom for these CI meetings with Carlos Peretti.

"If it hadn't been for you giving me a second chance…I might not have a family to go home to anymore." He added, with a small grin. "It would seem I have work to do. We'll be in touch Detective." He said. Then he stood up, and walked away—disappearing into the thick crowd of people just a few seconds later.

Deeks pulled his hand out from under the table, and read what the other man had scribbled across his palm.

_This one's on me, Bro. Now we're even._ Deeks looked up from the writing on his hand, and a single tear rolled silently down his cheek. "Thanks man." He whispered under his breath.

Several Hours Later…

Callen and Sam had spent the last few hours at the mission working upstairs in Ops. They were both tired, as was evident by the haggard looks worn on their faces. At present Callen stood alone in the room pouring over LAPD dossiers and other such content related to the serial rapist/killer who had put Kensi in ICU.

Sam strolled back into the room carrying two cups of freshly brewed coffee. He stopped in the doorway, and watched his partner for a long moment before speaking up or moving even an inch.

Callen ran a hand over his face and tried to shake the exhaustion that was starting to set in. "I know you're behind me Sam." Callen said over his shoulder, with a sigh.

Sam chuckled slightly. "So you're still awake then?" Sam moved towards his partner balancing the two coffee cups along the way.

"Obviously not." Callen replied, turning his body halfway to find his partner's outstretched hand holding a Styrofoam coffee cup. "For me?"

"Yeah." Sam replied, as he watched Callen accept the cup of fresh coffee. "I got one for myself too." He added, showing Callen his own cup.

"You don't drink coffee." Callen pointed out between sips of his own drink. "You drink juice."

Sam nodded. "People change G."

Callen only nodded in response. There was a certain uneasiness in the air around them, and as hard as they both tried to ignore it—they just couldn't.

"We need to stop." Sam said finally, unable to ignore the obvious any longer. "We've been at it for 12 hours straight now…I think its time for a break."

Callen shook his head, and turned back to the table littered with documents and crime scene photos. He set his coffee cup down nearby, and began to shuffle through the piles of papers once again for the umpteenth time since they'd started.

"We can stop later." Callen said without looking up. "Right now, the guy that tried to kill Kensi is still out there somewhere."

Sam nodded. "I know. But we've looked at everything, multiple times, and come up empty that same number of times." Sam pointed out. "We need a break, and then we can come back with fresh eyes."

"My eyes are still good." Callen replied quickly.

Sam let go of a long, tired sigh. "G, I know how you feel okay." Sam admitted.

Callen turned around at his partner's words. "Oh yeah…How's that?" he pressed the muscular black man standing just a few feet away.

"I know what she means to you." Sam told him. "She told me about how the whole thing." Sam admitted once again. "I know you had feelings for her at one time, and I also know that she turned you down."

"Its in the past Sam." Callen insisted as he turned back to his work.

"You sure?" Sam asked, arching an eyebrow in his partner's direction. "I think Deeks would disagree."

Callen shook his head angrily. "Deeks is the reason this happened." Callen pointed out. "He was her partner, he was supposed to protect her—he failed."

"No. He didn't, what happened to Kensi is not his fault. And let's face it G, we need his help." Sam told his partner. "He's got resources we don't have—resources we need, if we're gonna have any hope of catching this guy."

"Forget it, I'm not asking an outsider for help—not him."

…TBC…


End file.
